


Reality

by surena_13



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 13:23:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surena_13/pseuds/surena_13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Fingers for the femslash_today pornbattle</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reality

**Reality**

 

“No,” Olivia says harshly, grabbing Nina’s wrist before she is unable to stop it anymore. “The other one. Use your other hand.” She doesn’t want Nina to use her left hand, she wants to cold touch of the artificial fingers. Today there is no room for warmth, kindness or humanity. Right now she needs something to remind her of reality.

 

Nina looks up, her blue eyes full of understanding as she slowly pulls back her human hand. They’re not doing this because of love, lust or passion. They are both doing this because Olivia needs this and Nina wants to give her what she needs. She listens when the FBI agent orders her to fuck her with her artificial arm.

 

Olivia watches as Nina pulls her hand out the dark grey pants and takes off the fingerless black leather glove, carelessly throwing it on the desk behind Olivia. Uncovered like this her hands look exactly the same, but the texture, the feeling is different. Unnatural and unfeeling. Which are the words that cross Olivia’s mind when Nina’s fingers slip into her pants and under the waistband of her underwear.

 

Leaning against the desk, her hands gripping its edge so tightly her knuckles have turned white and her eyes not really seeing anything, Olivia looks so vulnerable, like that day she talked to Nina about the Olivia from the other universe. Her suit is slightly crumpled, a few buttons of her blouse have been opened and in this moment she is at the mercy of Nina Sharp’s fingers.

 

Nothing matters right now. Not Peter or Walter neither do Broyles or Astrid. All Olivia focuses on is Nina’s artificial hand moving inside her and the red hair that brushes against her collarbone as Nina leans in, not close enough to kiss, but enough to let the breath that escapes through her parted lips gently wash over Olivia’s face.

 

She would never kiss Olivia. They both know that would be crossing a line, making it personal. It isn’t about them. It isn’t even about sex. It’s about forgetting and remembering. It’s about both the universes fraying at the seams, unraveling in front of their eyes. And this the only way to make the harsh reality hurt a little less.

 

Afterwards they will never talk about this, until one of them simply turns up at the other’s doorstep with a look in their eyes that says everything and they will start all over again. But for now Nina fucks Olivia against her desk, her artificial fingers buried inside the FBI-agent until the haunted look disappears from her eyes.

 


End file.
